


Show, Don't Tell

by drifting_wreckers



Category: Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Action/Adventure, F/M, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-23
Updated: 2013-03-12
Packaged: 2017-12-03 09:18:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/696712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drifting_wreckers/pseuds/drifting_wreckers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dr. Elena Corleone was finally forced to put down the final member of the group she had been traveling with since the outbreak began.  She moves on her own and just as she was beginning to convince herself that being alone was better than being with a group, she encounters an unusually familiar man with a crossbow.  It's only when he, himself, recognizes her, that he invites her back to his group who are staying at a farm not too far back.  From there, things start to change for them both.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. How Many Times do you Hear it?

**Author's Note:**

> So I've finally given in to my writing urges and broken down to start writing my own little Walking Dead fic. I also did it as sort of a challenge to myself. The title is taken from the RUSH song Show Don't Tell and each chapter title is another lyric of the song. The goal is to end the story with the song, and depending on how I end it or where I end it, I may or may not continue with a sequel...also depending on the responses to this story. :3
> 
> I welcome comments and critiques! I've never written a Walking Dead fic before, so hopefully I do it a little justice. x3

###  **Chapter One: How Many Times do you Hear it?**

#### 

The smell reached her first, her reaction an instantaneous scrunching of nose and forehead. This was short-lived, however, when she realized how unnecessarily close it was to the camp she and the remaining survivor of her group had set in the woods. It was near a stream and they had hoped it would bring some reprieve after having to put down another member only forty-eight hours prior…

And then the sound crashed into her like a semi-truck that had blown a tire and lost control on the freeway.

She dropped the pack and crossbow she had been carrying and sprinted the remaining distance, her grip on the machete in her right hand going slack for just a second. One of those…things had its grimy, rotten hand wrapped around the young blonde’s wrist, yanking the meat of the panicking woman’s arm to its teeth. She was either too slow or too shocked to fight back and its teeth sank in, tearing flesh and a blood-curdling scream from her unfortunate companion. The older of the two’s jaw clenched and she closed the gap between them to plummet the already dirty blade into its skull, desensitized to the previously unsettling crunch and ease at which the blade went in and the small splash of blood that reached her face and tank top. 

The creature dropped, Anne – the blonde – falling with it and backpedaling in the leaves. Tears were streaming down her face as she continued to breathe heavily, her green eyes shooting between the dropped creature and the grim-faced woman now crouching in front of her. 

“Anne…you have a hunting knife, what were you thinking?” her voice was quiet but steady. She couldn’t break down – not now. Not knowing that she was about to be alone for the first time since the world had gone to complete shit. Because Elena Corleone was a doctor who, even in her relatively few years of experience, had seen things no young adult should have seen and knew she had to be level-headed about this. No amount of screaming, crying or panicking was going to make this any better. An emergency room doctor knew how to keep his- or herself calm.

The younger woman trembled in front of the olive-skinned doctor, eyes wide still. “I…I just…I just froze. I couldn’t do it…I can’t do it anymore…I didn’t even care…” she whimpered, grasping handfuls of dirt and clenching her fists. “You…you’ve done this before…y-you can’t let me turn into one of those…those _things_ …y-you have to kill me!”

The sudden conviction in Anne’s tone caught Elena off guard, her amber-colored eyes staring into the much lighter set in front of her. She took a steadying breath and ran a hand over her face, letting her eyelids fall closed for a moment. She could feel the tears – of anger or sadness, she wasn’t quite sure at the moment – prick at the corners of her eyes and inhaled sharply before pushing herself to stand. Anne had done it on purpose – had essentially committed suicide without actually killing herself. Instead, she had left that part up to the older of the pair. Strands of auburn hair not held back in the ponytail with an elastic hair tie were haphazardly brushed from her face. By the time her eyes reopened, there was no extra shine hinting at the emotions she had quickly blocked off.

“Let me get the crossbow. It’ll be just as quick as the gun.”

She turned back the way she had come and, with long strides, returned to the temporarily discarded items, slinging the strap of the crossbow over her shoulder and carrying the bag in her free hand. She still gripped the handle of the machete in her right hand, not slipping it into the makeshift sleeve at her belt until she had returned to the campsite and dropped the bag. Anne had shuffled to one of the trees and was now sitting back against it with her knees pulled to her chest. She cringed occasionally and looked to the wound still oozing blood and beginning to fester. 

Elena was so sick of all of this; so sick of having to put people down. She had always been a proponent for “death with dignity”, but this was different. This just seemed…selfish. But she bit back her comments and forced the thoughts from her mind. There was nothing she could do. The girl let herself get bit just so someone would have to finish it for her. Preposterous or not, there was nothing else she could do. She didn’t know how to cure it…nor did she have the resources even if she did.

The two women were silent as the brunette brought the crossbow in front of her and grabbed a bolt from the front and carefully loaded it. She had yet to actually really use the thing on anything but stationary, close range targets. She had picked it up on one of their raids for supplies several weeks ago and it had just seemed like a good thing to grab at the time. It was quiet and handy...and she was a pretty good shot with a gun, so how much harder could a crossbow be?...a question that later bit her in the ass as she wasted several hours and damn near broke one of the bolts trying to hit a target she had set up. Since then, she hadn’t exactly had much time to really work at it.

She stepped up to the girl who had been her sole companion for the past several days and met her gaze. Anne swallowed and began to tremble again, tears rolling down her cheeks. “I’m…I’m so sorry, Elena…I…I didn’t mean to-!”

Elena shushed her with a shake of her head. “It’s fine. We all make our own decisions. I’m not going to let you turn…or do it yourself.” _No point wasting the bullet._ The thought nearly made bile rise up the back of her throat. This world had the potential to change a person for the worse, and if she wasn’t careful, she was going to fall victim to that. 

The blonde choked back a sob and nodded, wiping tears from her eyes. “Just…just please be careful from now on…you can leave me here…” The doctor didn’t say a word, simply nodded and waited until the girl steadied herself and nodded. “I’m…I’m ready.” Elena exhaled quietly as she lifted the crossbow and took aim. Anne closed her eyes, her expression calming as she took several slow breaths. The older of the two tightened her grip on the crossbow and clenched her jaw. She just had to be quick about it…and when it was over reassess the situation. Same thing she had done every other time. She would just have no one to move on to step two with.

Before her thoughts could cloud her decision, she pulled the trigger, the twang of the taut wire as the bolt sped the short distance from its cradle to the sickening squelch as it pierced through Anne’s head with minimal resistance. Elena’s stomach squirmed and she fought back the nausea. It was different when it was a live human…and it took every ounce of self control she had to reach forward and remove the carbon fiber bolt and clean it off in the stream and grass. 

_Time to reassess_.


	2. It Goes on All Day Long

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have the next couple of chapters written as well and will probably post them within the next day or so, depending on how my editing goes, how busy I am...and perhaps the kudos/reviews. ;)

###  **Chapter Two: It Goes on All Day Long**

Elena had repacked her remaining belongings to fit in the few bags she could carry, moved herself away from the former campsite and spent the night in a tree. Chances were walkers would catch the smell of the deceased Anne soon enough, anyway, and she couldn’t risk being caught in that. She had a fully loaded, police-issued 9 mm Beretta strapped to her hip, more clips in the bag she had the best access to, her machete still at her belt and the crossbow on her back…not that it would do her much good in any impending situation. Unless she could hole up in a tree and go from there. It wasn’t like she could whip it around like a damn pistol. 

She finally settled down against a tree, dropping the bags around her and rummaging around in one for a can of fruit. She was going to have to try to hunt something soon if she didn’t come across any remnants of civilization. Her eyes drifted to the crossbow again as she stabbed the can open with one of the smaller knives in her possession. If she could hunt with that, she wouldn’t have to waste bullets and risk drawing the attention of walkers…

After gracelessly finishing off the can, she rose to her feet and found a nook in a tree for it to sit in. She figured she might as well get some target practice in if she was going to take a break from walking. She moved back to where the crossbow rested on the ground and hoisted it up, struggling a bit to get the thing cocked and loaded before standing a decent distance from the can. It was learn fast or die in this world, and she had no intention of giving up yet, alone or not. Besides, at least if she was alone, she wouldn’t be forced to put anyone else down…

She steadied the weapon against her shoulder and gazed down the sights. She found the can in her field of view and inhaled slowly before firing. The bolt dug into the tree to the left of the can. She swore under her breath before lowering the weapon to cock it and try it again. She shifted her sights to the right and fired again…this time landing too far to the right. She muttered incoherently to herself as she reloaded and took a third shot. Almost to her surprise, it pierced the can and she couldn’t help but feel the first sense of great accomplishment that she had felt in weeks. A proud grin pulled the corners of her lips upward – it was definitely a start. She left the crossbow leaning against another tree and moved to retrieve the bolts she had fired, that sense of satisfaction beginning to radiate from her.

…when from the corner of her eye, she saw something move. 

On instinct, she pulled the Beretta from its holster and took aim in the direction she was certain she had seen something stir. Her pulse quickened and adrenaline steadily started to seep into her system. She certainly didn’t smell anything or hear the uncoordinated and shuffling steps and groans of a walker, but that didn’t mean whatever was there was a friendly bunny rabbit…

…in fact, it was another crossbow. She had to keep from groaning. The damn weapon was just taunting her inability, now!

“The fuck’re you?” a distinctly Georgian accent growled lowly. Her eyes sharpened into a glare as she kept her pistol aimed at the intruder’s head. 

“Didn’t your mother ever teach you that it’s rude to ask someone’s fuckin’ name without giving your own?” she sneered back. She took a moment of their stare-down to size up the newcomer and almost felt herself regret being so quick to pick a fight when she saw the seething scowl on his expression. Not only was he quite a bit taller than herself, but something told her the rugged, dirty and disheveled man was much more capable with the weapon pointed in her face than she was. 

“None of your fuckin’ business. The fuck ‘er you doin’ out here?” he spat, and the two locked eyes: fiery amber met icy blue…

…and she could’ve sworn something about him seemed familiar.

She didn’t dwell, though. “Surviving just like anyone else,” she answered, although the sharpness of her tone didn’t waver any more than her gun did. She noticed him evaluating his opponent as well, before his eyes flit over her shoulder to the bags she had left sitting…and then to her embarrassing tree. 

“Surprised you’ve made it this far shootin’ like that,” he smirked. The heat of embarrasment crept up her neck, flushing her cheeks as she felt her temper spike.

“I’m a lot better with a gun, asshole. Why don’t you walk the fuck away and I’ll shoot your balls off from forty yards. That’s assuming I could even see them.”

His brows rose in surprise at the venom in her insult. He didn’t move, but she felt his appraising gaze shift slightly, no longer quite as malicious. “Ya with a group or bit?” The latter bit of the question was more of a habit…or at least Elena figured. Between her tank top and unripped jeans, it should have been obvious enough…let alone the fact that any blood on her clothes was clearly old. 

“Last of my group got bit yesterday and I put her down, so to answer both of your questions, no and no.”

He seemed to mull this over for a moment before finally lowering his weapon just enough that she realized he wasn’t going to shoot her in the near future unless she did something stupid. She took his lead and lowered her own gun, keeping the handle gripped tightly in her hand. His chin jerked towards her supplies. “What d’ya got?” The question unsettled her, and he seemed to pick up on this, rolling his eyes. “Gotta group a ways back. Probably let ya in if you’re willing ta share what you’ve got.”

She froze. “A…a group?” Did she really want to go back to a group already? What if things went bad again? “…how many?”

He could see the uncertainty in her gaze and something else…perhaps it was fear? It seemed unusual coming from the eyes that had just made him thankful looks couldn’t kill. “’bout six women, eight men, give or take. Got an injured kid, too.”

Her brows shot up. “Injured? I’m…” she stopped and corrected herself. “I was a doctor before all this.” Something clicked with her – a habit of getting back to business whenever things like this came up. “I have a collection of drugs from pain killers to antibiotics of all kinds and a few other supplies I was able to get out of the hospital after everything calmed down.”

They stood, simply staring at each other for another long moment, the scowl now long-gone from his expression although she wouldn’t exactly call the one that had replaced it friendly. Perhaps it was just cautious. “C’mon, then. Guy takin’ care of ‘im is a vet. Wouldn’t hurt to have a real doc on hand, ‘m sure.” 

Elena breathed a sigh and nodded. She couldn’t very well leave an injured child unattended to, whether she knew him or not…her professional conscience wouldn’t let her. Besides, she could always leave after he was taken care of. And so, she moved to the tree and yanked the bolts from the trunk before grabbing the one from the can. She felt his eyes following her the whole way as she gathered up the rest of her things. It was a bit unsettling – nerve-wracking, almost. Unable to take the silence, she spoke up as she headed back towards him, now completely laden with the bags and crossbow. 

“I’m Elena Corleone, emergency medicine,” she finally introduced upon meeting his gaze again. She could’ve sworn she saw a flash of recognition in his eyes as the faintest of smirks pulled the corners of his lips upward. He didn’t answer until he had swiftly removed one of the bags from her shoulders and threw it over his own, not giving her room to protest as he began to head back from the direction he had appeared.

“Daryl.”

Not only surprised from the abrupt loss of weight and the rather kind gesture, her own neurons started firing and connecting a few dusty memories.

“Daryl…? Daryl what?” she questioned as she increased her pace to catch up to and walk alongside him.

“Dixon.”

Her eyes lit up and, for the first time in several days, a genuine smile lit up her face. “I knew you looked familiar! Daryl fucking Dixon! Imagine running into you after a zombie apocalypse!”

She couldn’t see his face really, but she could hear the smirk in his tone. “Whatever ya say, Doc.”

And suddenly, Elena felt much better about this situation.


	3. Everyone Knows Everything

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't hesitate to drop a comment and let me know what you think!

Elena wouldn’t have called whatever scattered and sparse conversation passed between the two as Daryl led her back to his group “catching up”, but he did, at least, fill her in on the situation. It seemed a lot had happened – a lot of _drama_ if you asked her – and the current plight was the missing Sophia. It was after another pause that she broke it once more.

“What about that crazy ass brother of yours? He getting along with everyone?” She hadn’t known the brothers for very long, but she was quick to understand the dynamic between the two. They were very different, and Merle was very much a stubborn asshole, but they clung to each other after being raised in whatever environment they had grown up in…of course that was also mostly speculation, as she had only gotten them to speak about themselves maybe once or twice over the course of his brother’s hospital stay.   
Daryl’s impassiveness at her question made her uneasy and she immediately regret asking it. He still answered, though. “Some shit went down and ‘e got left on a roof in Atlanta. Pretty sure he’s alive, though. Nothin’ can kill Merle but Merle.” She couldn’t help but feel that phrase had become something of a reassuring mantra for himself.  
Her expression softened and she nodded slowly. “I didn’t even know you guys that long and I could figure that one out,” she replied after a moment, not knowing much else to say. It couldn’t have been easy. It was difficult enough for her not to know what had happened to her family scattered around the northeast. It was something she usually tried not to think about. 

Elena was certain that the remainder of their walk would be held in silence, and was surprised once more when that faintly familiar Southern drawl spoke up. “What happened to ya group?”

The silence that followed weighed heavily on her mind…but she knew that if she was going to be trusted to join another group, she needed to lay out as much of her story as she dared…no matter how difficult it could be. And besides, he’d given his, it was only fair. “Started to get bit one by one…and somehow everyone pinned it on me to clean up afterward. I guess they figured being a doctor made that shit easier.” She shook her head, her lips pursing as she thought back to the past few weeks. It had been the worst. They had been caught off guard so many times…any one of the infected members could have easily been her…but it wasn’t. She was the only one left standing, and getting lost on that train of thought caused her to miss the unusually pensive peripheral glance that focused on her as she was left to struggle to fight back the angry tears boiling at the rims of her eyes.

Shortly after that admission, they reached a clearing in the trees and arrived at the farm Daryl had mentioned. Something about it made her feel immediately safer…although the gathering of people beside an RV did make her relatively nervous. It had been a long time since she’d dealt with such a large group of people. 

“C’mon.” 

She hadn’t even realized she’d stopped walking until Daryl had spoken up, and even then she followed behind him slowly, warily. A man with what appeared to be a freshly-shaven head came storming towards them first, a shot gun raised. She immediately put her hands palms forward and parallel to her shoulders. It was meant to be a gesture of surrender in that her hands were far enough from her weapons that they would shoot her before she even had a chance to think. It wasn’t until he spoke that she really regretted doing so.

“The fuck you doing you redneck moron? She doesn’t look like Sophia to me!” 

Elena’s eyes narrowed into a glare and she could feel Daryl bristle beside her. “Ain’t fuckin’ blind, Shane. Found her in the woods. She’s alone and a doctor. Got supplies she’s willing to share.”

The man’s dark eyes scrutinized her to the point where she shifted uncomfortably, a frown on her lips. “How the hell do we know you’re a doctor, huh? Could be lying!”

Her brow furrowed and she rolled her eyes. She had the feeling showing any sort of weakness around this man could be dangerous. He didn’t seem to be entirely put together… “I treated Daryl’s brother Merle in the ER after he crashed his motorcycle. We were short-staffed that week so I ended up being his hospitalist for the remainder of his stay.”

He leered at me and opened his mouth to say more when another man’s voice joined theirs and a hand pushed the barrel of his shotgun down. “That’s enough, Shane. There’s no need for this.” Shane eyed the other man with a scowl but didn’t say more. Another pair of blue eyes met hers. “I’m sorry about all this, but I’m sure you understand the need for caution. My name’s Rick.” He extended a hand that Elena shook gratefully. At least he was the first one not to point a weapon in her face right off the bat. 

“Elena Corleone…look, if it’s too much trouble for me to stay here with your group I can find my own way.”

Several sets of eyes turned to her, among them a woman with long brunette hair and an older woman with short, peppered hair. There was a certain sadness in her eyes – perhaps it was disappointment. Either way, she figured this was the mother of the child Daryl was searching for. Shane began to speak up again but Rick cut him off.  
“This isn’t our farm, but we would be happy to have you stay with us for a while. We’ll have you talk to Hershel…I’m sure he would like the extra help around.”  
She nodded, feeling the tension in her shoulders ease as Rick instructed her to follow, although requested her weapons for the time being. She turned them over before gesturing to the bag Daryl was carrying. “All my extra ammo and knives and things are in there.” The bag changed hands a few times and she glanced up at the silent hunter with a small, appreciative smile. He held her gaze for a moment before shrugging and turning to walk off on his own. She couldn’t help but laugh a little to herself.

Always the quiet one.

~~~ 

Elena was introduced to the full group, Hershel leading her to the soon-to-be on his feet Carl. She did a short exam of her own, having not much more than her old stethoscope to use, anyway. She applauded Hershel’s work, especially under the circumstances, and headed out. The rest of the group had provided her with a tent to herself and she was finding herself settling abnormally quickly. She kept herself busy, though. She made sure if she wasn’t helping Hershel or one of the men, she was helping the women cook or clean…anything. The only one she really avoided was Shane. Something about him unsettled her and she wasn’t ashamed to admit it. She just wanted to keep herself busy so she wouldn’t have any time to dwell on anything… 

The sun began to sink below the horizon just as they finished making dinner. Elena felt better than she had in months. She’d been granted access to the working shower and was able to change into a clean set of clothes that had been air-dried and actually smelled _good_. She and Maggie walked out of the kitchen and to the table, laughing at something the others hadn’t heard. The young woman had convinced her father to let everyone eat with them at the dining table tonight, and Elena suspected it had something to do with the young Korean…a suspicion that was confirmed after an innocently teasing comment caused Maggie to blush. As they set the bowls and pot of stew on the table, the brunette glanced around the room as people filed in and began to get settled at the table. The comfortable, _normal_ chatter was such a foreign sound to her it was almost unsettling. 

She noticed someone was missing, though, and her brow furrowed.

“Hey, anyone see Daryl?”

Multiple eyes turned to her in surprise, others looking around and shrugging nonchalantly before continuing the conversation. Dale was the one to answer her, his brows lifted as he studied her curiously. “Seemed like he was planning on keeping to himself, tonight.” 

She rolled her eyes and shook her head slightly, leaning over the table to pour some of the stew into two bowls and grabbing a spoon for each. “I’ll go take this out to him,” she huffed, causing Carol to rise, a gentle smile upon her lips. 

“I can take it, if you’d like. I’m sure you’ve been through a lot these past few days, especially. You can take a seat and enjoy.”

The doctor returned the smile and shook her head slightly, oblivious to Dale’s attentive gaze. “Nah, that’s alright. I need to really thank the guy, anyway. Sit! Eat!” she laughed before heading out into the crisp night air. If she was totally honest, she would admit that she still felt a bit more comfortable outside. It had been a long time since she’d been in a real home – not just some shell of a house - and it felt…crowded, almost stifling. She felt the tension ease from her shoulders as she stepped down and off the porch, headed towards the small fire and the clearly visible form hunched over something. As she walked closer, she realized he was whittling at some sticks to make himself more bolts. He didn’t even look up when she approached, although she was well aware that there was no feasible way he wouldn’t know she was there. “Y’know I’ve got carbon fiber ones I’d be willing to share. Not like I’m any good with the damn things anyway,” she finally spoke. That blue gaze of his flickered up to hers before returning back to the work in his hands. It was difficult to see, but she was pretty certain there was ghost of a smirk on his lips.

“I noticed. The hell ya doin’ with the thing if ya can’t use it, ‘nyway?” 

She rolled her eyes, standing several feet to his left with a bowl in each hand. “Picked it up on a run a while back. Just seemed like a good move and I figured I could teach myself eventually. Haven’t really had a chance to work at it,” she huffed her explanation before shaking her head and extending one of the bowls. “Here, I brought you out some dinner. You need to eat, especially with the search you’re keeping up.”

He paused in his work finally and his chin tilted up, his eyes first on the bowl and then narrowed at her face. Something about his gaze – the intensity of it, perhaps? - made her anxious and her stomach tightened. He reached forward and took the bowl from her hands, not having to rise from his seat and not so much as brushing against her fingers. She didn’t realize she’d been holding her breath until he finally looked away. “Thanks.”

She snapped out of her abrupt stupor, troubled by the alien discomfort, but shrugged. “No problem. I should be saying that to you,” she replied, taking a seat on the bare ground a little further to his right before leaning against the log behind her. She kept her gaze on either the stew or the fire, but could still feel his eyes on her as they both started to eat in temporary silence.

“Why should you be thankin’ me? Ain’t done nothin’.”

Elena scoffed and shook her head, her amber gaze lifting back to him for a second before resettling on the fire. “Except save my sanity by bringing me here. You could’ve easily left me out there on my own…or even killed me and taken my supplies, but you didn’t.”

There was another long silence as she continued to eat and shifted somewhat awkwardly. She could feel him watching her, although she did not acknowledge it. He, on the other hand, couldn’t quite figure her out. Even in the hospital, everyone else had always kept their distance from him and his brother; the nurses all rolled their eyes and kept with their phony niceties. She, though, would walk in on her rounds in the morning, often just as Daryl would get there and snicker at Merle’s nicknames...if you could call them, that. He’d taken to calling her “Dr. Sugar-Tits” or some other crude variation, and she would retort with some insult or other but otherwise be perfectly, genuinely personable. She didn’t take any of Merle’s shit…and never seemed to look at his younger brother with the same annoyed disdain she did him. Her smiles always seemed real, sympathetic, maybe. She didn’t automatically assume that because they shared a bloodline they automatically shared personalities. 

…he also noticed that she seemed to have cleaned up. The firelight danced across her face as she set the empty bowl to her side and stretched. Her cheeks were slightly thinner than he remembered, but there was still something about her that…captivated him. She settled back against the log and he finally forced his gaze away. It was his turn to shift uncomfortably.

What the hell was wrong with him?


	4. And No One's Ever Wrong

The following several days passed much like the day of Elena’s arrival. She awoke early and had slept progressively less courtesy of a few recurring nightmares that taunted her in the middle of the night. The more she was left alone to think, the more her thoughts and memories bothered her. And so to combat that, she made sure she was rarely alone with nothing to do. She moved from one task to another in hopes to completely exhaust herself by the end of the day so she could do nothing but collapse onto the cot in her tent and sleep. It did, however, give her time to get to know the rest of the group. Thus far the only members that she had issue getting comfortable with were Shane and Andrea. Something about Andrea just…grated on her nerves. She couldn’t place it. She and Maggie, on the other hand, were beginning to enjoy their chats in the stables. Although the black-haired girl was a few years younger than her, Elena couldn’t help but feel really at ease and connected to her. And any time she couldn’t find something to do with any of the others, she found delight in keeping Dale company on watch on top of the RV. The man’s wisdom was great and she very much enjoyed their conversation. 

One morning, in particular, Elena was up and about earlier than usual, stretching as she approached the group and greetings were spread around. Her gaze found Daryl’s as she joined the group beside him. She smiled and offered him a “good morning”, to which he simply nodded. She snorted and shook her head slightly, which then earned a roll of his eyes. Dale watched this exchange, an amused grin upon his lips until Shane spoke up. 

“We’re gonna do some gun training, today. Anyone that wants to learn can come along.”

Elena perked up immediately. “I’ll come, for sure. I definitely need to work with that stupid crossbow some more.”

It was Daryl’s turn to snort and she scowled at him briefly until Shane cleared his throat and brought her attention back to him. “I’m not entirely comfortable with giving you your weapons back, yet. No offense.”

Her brow furrowed and she frowned unhappily. Several sets of eyes were awaiting her response and watching the muscles in her jaw clench and unclench. She released a long, slow breath, clearly trying to calm herself down before she rubbed her forehead slowly. “Alright… _fine_.” Did she want to concede to that? _Fuck_ , no! But she didn’t have much of a choice! Sure, she could absolutely explode at Shane, list every damn reason in the book they should let her have her weapons back at that point, but she knew it wouldn’t do any good. It was clear Shane still didn’t trust her, and losing it wouldn’t help that process along. She would just have to bite her tongue and deal with it. 

…and she couldn’t help but think that _Rick_ would let her have her damn weapons back…

She inadvertently met Shane’s gaze and a chill crept up her spine…and not a good one. “Thanks for understanding.”

She rolled her eyes and shrugged. “Don’t really have much of a choice.”  
She heard a scoff from her left as Daryl adjusted the crossbow on his back and began to head towards another edge of the farm. “Couldn’t even show ya how to use it right, anyway.”

She quirked a brow and turned back to look at him as a smirk curled the corners of her lips upward. “You offering, Dixon?”

She noticed a hesitation in his stride and his head turned, his peripheral vision on her. Not to mention she was pretty certain there was some sort of an amused disposition around him. “If ya lucky.” He wasn’t really sure why he’d said it…or why he felt so satisfied with the way she called after him as he continued walking.

“Holding you to that, Oh Mighty Crossbow Master!” She laughed quietly to herself before turning back to the group who was eyeing her oddly. She blinked and felt heat creep up her neck. “What?”

Shane cleared his throat and most of the group went along with him to the makeshift gun range that he’d set up. Maggie trotted towards her from across the fire pit.

“’Lena! You comin’ to the stables with me today?” 

The older of the two sighed and nodded. “I’m apparently not allowed to do anything else,” she sulked and Maggie laughed before patting her back sympathetically.

“Don’t tell me you don’t enjoy our time together? That hurts!” Elena laughed and shook her head slowly as the two of them approached the stables…and were surprised to find Daryl leading a horse out of the gates. He hoisted himself into the saddle and looked at Maggie as the frowning woman spoke.

“My dad say you could take that?”

He rolled his eyes. “Ya, he did. Be quicker’en walkin’.”

She sighed and continued into the stables before Daryl glanced down at Elena, his hands gripping the reigns. She approached the horse and patted its nose, the animal jerking slightly at her initial touch before calming. A ball formed in the pit of her stomach: something didn’t feel right. “Be careful, Daryl. She seems a little jumpy,” she spoke quietly, her amber eyes moving up to his blues. The concern in her eyes made him feel…uncomfortable.

He snorted. “I’ll be fine.”

She rolled her eyes. “Always the macho-man. See ya, Dixon.” He only nodded and rode off into the woods with the horse. She watched him go for a minute before entering the stable with Maggie who already had another horse tethered to the wash area. Elena almost stopped at the amused and quizzical expression on her face. “What?”

The younger’s brow rose. “You worried about the redneck, there? Is there something you’re hidin’ from me?” she teased. Elena felt heat rising up her neck…again. She tried to dismiss it, though, as she grabbed one of the brushes and approached the animal. 

“What? Apparently someone has to be.”

There was a pause, and Elena could just _feel_ the amused suspicion in the other’s gaze. “Are you _sure_ that’s all? I mean, you did know him before…did a little…hanky-panky go on before all this?”

She kept focused on brushing the horse, although the color had finally flushed her cheeks completely. “He was my patient’s brother, Mag, honestly.”

Maggie was damn near cackling. “And that’s why you’re blushing?”

She snorted and shook her head. “Hey, I was completely professional as a doctor! And that meant not getting involved with my patients or their family members!”

Maggie huffed and Elena turned to face the girl, who stood with her hands on her hips…until she snapped her fingers, an idea clear upon her expression. “I’ll tell you what – I’ll spill some girl-talk details if you spill yours.”

…now she was curious. Elena’s eyes narrowed and she extended a hand. “Done.” They shook on it and went back to grooming the horse. Elena had to admit, she hadn’t had some good girl talk in a while…this could actually be pretty fun. “So…dish!”

She didn’t hesitate. “I slept with Glenn.” 

The older of the two started coughing on air in surprise, whirling around on the abruptly blushing girl. “ _Get it_ , Maggie!” she laughed, shaking her head. “I guess some of us have to have a little fun around here,” she winked. Maggie giggled a little awkwardly.

“Yeah, I have to admit that he’s pretty cute. Not too bad, either, if you know what I mean.”

The doctor groaned, scrunching her nose and shaking her head. “Alright, alright – _now_ you’re gettin’ a little too far!” They both laughed before Maggie shifted the direction of their conversation. 

“Alright, now your turn! Gimme somethin’ good! He good with his hands?” she winked. 

Elena shook her head. “I told you I never slept with Daryl!” she exclaimed before trailing off…and then grinning a little mischievously. “…doesn’t mean I dislike lookin’ at him, though.” The two burst into laughter and continued their conversation like there wasn’t imminent danger just beyond the fences…like the world had never gone to shit in the first place and they were just catching up like old friends. 

“So that’s how you like ‘em, then? A little rough around the edges?” Her brows rose and Elena shrugged, a reminiscent smirk upon her lips.

“Actually, he’d be the first of his kind. The last guy I dated was actually one of my attendings… _that_ was a mistake. Sex in the on-call room is never smart.”

There was a pause, and Elena glanced back to see Maggie gaping at her, jaw entirely slack. “Isn’t that not really…allowed or something?”

It was Elena’s turn to laugh. “Yeah…he was a smooth-talking bastard, too. Ended up being a total asshole. It was pretty satisfying to punch him in the face when I caught him with one of the other interns, though…and watch him struggle to come up with an excuse for his black eye.” At that, they both started laughing and their conversation spiraled from there. By the time they were done with the horses, they joined Lori and Carol at the laundry, only to have the conversation continue from first times to past romances and boyfriends and more. The only thing that was a reminder of what the world had become as far as Elena was concerned was Carol. 

The doctor couldn’t help but notice that hope was fading from Carol’s eyes as the days wore on, and it broke her heart. The woman had lost her husband (who, she had been told, was an asshole, anyway), and now the idea that she had lost her daughter as well was becoming very real…and yet Daryl still seemed so confident that he would find her. Her mother had always told her that losing a child was the worst thing any parent could go through…and she had seen it several times, herself. Fathers and mothers, alike, shattered when she had to deliver the news that their child had not survived surgery…or that the internal damage was too severe. That had easily been the most difficult part of her job: watching parents break down and lose all semblances of themselves. It was something she had a feeling she would never truly understand…or at least she hoped she wouldn’t. 

…but Carol was still trying to keep strong. 

The rest of the group had returned from gun training and that anxious feeling began to creep into her stomach once more. She noticed the tension in the group start to climb, as well. Even Maggie and Glenn seemed to be having some sort of a heated discussion on the porch. She frowned and glanced up at the tree line and the slowly dipping sun. It was starting to get late…shouldn’t Daryl have returned by then…?

She brushed the thought from her mind. The man could clearly take care of himself! There was no reason for her to-.

“Walker!”

The shout caught her attention and everyone turned and froze at the sight of the stumbling creature. She noticed Andrea on top of the RV with rifle raised and frowned until Rick yelled at her to put it down.

“We’ll handle it! Don’t need to use unnecessary ammo or attract any more of them to us!”

She noticed Andrea frown as the group began to crowd around the RV. “But I can get it from here!”

Dale rose from his seat and patted her shoulder. “Just let Rick, T-Dog, Shane and Glenn handle it.”

Elena’s gaze followed the men, expecting to see them immediately dispose of the creature…and she tilted her head in confusion when they hesitated. She took several more steps forward, studying the scene playing out in front of her with her eyes squinted. Lori offered her a pair of binoculars which she took and brought to her face.

She jumped at the gunfire from the top of the RV and saw the walker drop…before the three men scrambled to pick it up and began to carry it towards the rest of the group, shouting something. She focused through the binoculars for a moment…

The doctor’s eyes widened and her pulse immediately tripled. Tears sprang to her eyes but she didn’t let them fall. She didn’t even give herself time to process all that she was feeling. Instead, she swore: loudly and threw the binoculars aside. “FUCK, that’s Daryl! You fuckin’ shot Daryl, Andrea!” as soon as the words left her mouth she ran forward, turning back to the others for a moment. “Someone get Hershel and tell him to get all the stuff ready!” she yelled, pushing her panic aside. She was a trained ER doctor – she could do this. The familiar rush of naturally-occurring epinephrine pulsed through her veins as she met up with the men carrying the unconscious hunter. 

Triage, time.


	5. ...Until Later.

In a hospital, doctors are not legally allowed to operate on or treat immediate family or spouses, and it is recommended to avoid friends as well. The reason was really simple-enough: emotions could blind you and cause fatal mistakes. And it was for that reason, as well, that up until that point, Elena had not once treated anyone she knew well. Had she given medical advice? Certainly. Done a friend a favor or two on something non-life-threatening? But of course. However the moment anyone she had any emotional attachment to came into the trauma center, one of the other doctors she trusted took over. 

Of course, Elena couldn’t say she knew Daryl all that well; he wasn’t family and he certainly wasn’t her spouse…and yet she found herself having to constantly keep half of her focus on maintaining her calm disposition. By the time the men had set Daryl on the bed, Elena had the stethoscope around her neck and was having the men remove Daryl’s shirt. Her lips set into a thin line as she physically assessed him, pressing the stethoscope to his chest, abdomen and back, checking his heartbeat, lungs and listening for any other abnormalities. Other than the puncture wound that appeared to be from one of his own bolts and the graze of a bullet wound at the side of his head, there were no bites to be seen and for that she could exhale a quiet breath of relief and move on to cleaning him up enough to disinfect the wounds and prepare for the next task. 

Hershel managed to get some pain medication into his system before he handed her the sutures she requested. With gloves on, she removed the thin, threaded needle from the plastic with a pair of forceps and brought the needle to his skin. It only took her one uncertain stitch before the skill came back and she moved much more surely. It had been a while since she’d had any practice with it…luckily, though, it was just like riding a bike!...well, at least for her. 

Rick and Shane were on opposite ends of the room waiting for Daryl to regain consciousness despite Elena’s insistence. “I can almost guarantee he won’t wake up any time soon. His body has been through a lot, he should sleep pretty heavily for at least a few hours.”

From her peripheral vision, she caught Shane rolling his eyes and had to focus more intently on the wound she was currently mending to stop herself from saying something she might later regret. “Then we’ll just wait.”

She rolled her eyes right back but continued with the sutures…only to have Daryl make her eat her words a few minutes later. He stirred and she glanced up at him in surprise as he groaned uncomfortably. “Don’t move, I’m almost done here,” she spoke, ignoring the smirk on Shane’s lips. The hunter was clearly much more resilient than she would’ve expected based on her own experience and training. She couldn’t help but admire that. She couldn’t ignore, however, Daryl’s suddenly uncomfortable shift. Her eyes lifted to his, which were slightly glazed over; probably a combination of pain and the meds he’d been given. She hesitated as their eyes locked, several unreadable things swirling around in those usually stoic, cold blue eyes…

Rick’s voice broke apart their connection just as her breath caught in her throat. “Daryl, we need to know where you found Sophia’s doll.”

Elena blinked and forced her gaze back to the mostly closed wound. She wasn’t entirely focused on the conversation and just tried to clear her mind and keep her concentration on the task at hand. She couldn’t help, though, how her eyes strayed from the wound every now and then. Of all things, she found herself shamefully drawn to his wide chest and the occasional tattoo littered there…but then as she would force her eyes back down and they would drift back up, she started to notice the scars, in particular the ones that she caught glimpses of on his back. It took all of her years of training the impassivity of her expression not to frown. She was also trained to look for signs of abuse…

“…Elena?”

She flinched and looked up at Hershel, a rather unintelligent expression upon her face. “I-I’m sorry?”

He smiled gently. “I was asking you if you’ve got everything covered, here?”

An embarrassed flushed reached her cheeks just faintly but she nodded. “Yeah, I’ll be done in a second.” He nodded and patted her shoulder on his way out. She finished the final few stitches and carefully knotted the end just as the door clicked quietly closed and reached for the scissors set aside to clip the excess thread. When she looked up at Daryl, she frowned slightly. “Thought I told you to be careful, Dixon…” she finally managed. The adrenaline had waned long ago, and suddenly, with the forceps and gloves out of and off her hands, she no longer felt like a doctor…

…she felt like the over-relieved family. 

Her fingers twitched and she swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat. She hadn’t let herself think it at the time, but now that he was, essentially, in the clear, her mind slowed down enough to remind her why she had felt such _panic_. She had been so afraid that he had been bitten…afraid that she would have had to put a bullet through his head like all of the others. The mere thought caused her chest to constrict uncomfortably. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes as he carefully rolled onto his back, his expression blank.

“Tell that to the fuckin’ horse that threw me.”

She took a shaky breath and swiped a hand over her forehead, pushing the stray strands of hair back. She couldn’t quite explain, even to herself, why she was so shaken. A part of her tried to reason that he was all that remained from her life before the outbreak and if he was gone, she would have to admit that this was all real and everyone she had known was likely gone…but then the other half of her brain would chime in and remind her how pleased she was to see him, even in the hospital…how much she enjoyed teasing him, even when he brushed her off. There had always been something about the typically silent Dixon that kept her going back to him…

“Doc, what’s goin’ on?” She was aware that he’d suddenly become even more uncomfortable than he was earlier and she couldn’t imagine why… “What’re ya cryin’ for?” his tone was low, his ill familiarity with the type of situation evident. It was only then that she realized that she apparently did not have the control over the emotions that she thought she did. A hand blindly reached up to wipe the tears from her cheeks, a quiet, broken hiccup parting her lips as she inhaled. 

“I…I don’t-…” she trailed off and tried to collect herself, immediately ashamed. She’d never broken down in front of a patient before… “Sorry, I’ll just…you need to get some rest. I’ll just go for now.” She turned and moved to walk away, her knees starting to weaken until a large, rough and callused hand grabbed her wrist. She glanced back at Daryl, who didn’t let her go. When his blue eyes caught her amber ones, she felt another fresh set of tears fill her eyes and start to spill over.

The discomfited Dixon shifted his weight and cleared his throat. “Sit.”

She hadn’t meant to let it happen…but all the emotions she’d been bottling up for the past several weeks finally found their release. Her knees buckled and she let herself collapse onto the edge of the bed, her hands flying to her face as a sob broke past her lips and she hunched forward. 

Daryl didn’t speak or even touch her for that matter. To be perfectly honest, he hadn’t the faintest clue what he was supposed to do in a position like that one. She might not have known it, but he had observed her quite a bit back in that hospital, and the longer she’d been with the group now, the more he remembered. He’d overheard her talking to one of the other staff members, more-than once, about a patient they’d lost earlier in the day. He’d heard the disappointment – maybe regret was a better word – in her voice, but she’d always walked back to his brother’s room with her head held high and a smile. Even when he’d found her back in the woods and she’d told him everything that had happened, she still held her head high…but he had also noticed the pain she held back. That was the most defeated he’d ever seen her…and it just didn’t seem at all right.

What he didn’t know, was that he didn’t need to say a word or do a thing. The honest truth was that his mere presence was enough for her to feel relaxed enough to let it all out. She just…couldn’t stand it anymore. All of the horrible, lonely and sad thoughts that had been plaguing her for weeks came flooding back to her and the injured Daryl had just been the catalyst that triggered her collapse. 

Neither of them were particularly certain how long they had sat there in a silence mottled only with her sobs. Eventually, though, the space between each became longer, the sobs less lung-wrenching until the salty trails began to dry and her breathing became more even. Her cheeks flushed as her shoulders finally straightened and she wiped at her face with the back of her hands and sniffled. She tried to regain some sense of composure – hopefully without looking like a total train wreck – before glancing back at the blue-eyed man still propped against the pillows at the head of the bed. She half-expected him to be asleep, but instead his eyes met hers immediately, his expression the closest to soft she could imagine. 

“I’m…I’m sorry…It’s…just been a rough few weeks…” she murmured at last, her voice hoarse and making her grimace. After a pause, he shook his head slightly.

“S’fine. Got nothin’ to apologize for.” The smallest of smirks tugged his lips upward. “’sides, I’m the one who got shot. Think I got the short end of the stick today.”

She realized, then, that he was making a joke…and found herself returning the smile. “Yeah…I’ll have to give Andrea a stern talking to,” she laughed quietly.

She was caught in that studying gaze again, his smirk falling. Her eyes moved to the hands folded in her lap…until he spoke again, his tone low. “What’re ya carin’ so much for, ‘nyway? People get hurt all the damn time in this world…”

Her expression softened, mentally leaning towards her confirmed suspicions. If he couldn’t understand why anyone would honestly care about him, clearly there was something in his past that stopped him…she brought that thought process to a halt and let both of her hands reach out to encompass one of his gently. She half expected him to immediately pull it away, especially after he flinched, but he didn’t move. Her eyes met his. “You brought me here, Daryl. But even if you hadn’t, I’d still be worried about you. You’ve given me no reason not to. You’re a decent human being – a lot better than a lot of the ones left hanging around here, I’ll say that much. And besides,” she cracked a small grin. “Someone apparently has to look after and worry about your stubborn ass. Everyone seems to think you can take care of yourself and don’t need anyone, period.”

He snorted, his gaze leaving hers to studying the much more interesting wall across from him. His hand was still held in both of hers. “Don’t need anyone else.”

She rolled her eyes. “Be stubborn all you want, Dixon. But you’re stuck with the fact that I’ve got your back for as long as I’m here.” He turned his head back to her just as she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his forehead. He’d recoiled once more, surprise clear in his expression even when she pulled away. She smiled gently and shrugged. “Deal with it.” She moved to rise from the bed, weak from exhaustion more emotional than physical. She had stumbled slightly and caught herself on the wall, grumbling profanities until Daryl sighed loudly.

“The hell you think ya goin’?”

She glanced back at him, puzzled as he rolled over on the bed, his back to her. “To bed?”

“Ya gonna fall down the damn stairs at that rate and that’s the last damn thing we need. Just don’t wake me up.”

She blinked, her head tilting slightly. That sounded like an unusually…nice offer. Her eyes narrowed although he likely wouldn’t see it. “You telling me I can stay in here tonight?”

She didn’t get an answer and just laughed quietly, moving back to sit on the bed and remove her shoes. She slid on top of the covers behind the seemingly disgruntled hunter, her back to his. A small smile curled her lips upward and she sighed and shook her head slightly. “Thanks, Daryl…” she murmured softly.


	6. Who Can You Believe?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took me so long to get out! I got pretty busy over the past week or so! 
> 
> Thanks for the kudos! I'd love a review or two as well, if you've got the time! :)

For the first time since she’d arrived, Elena slept heavily throughout the night. There were no nightmares, no waking up in a sweat…just a blank, dreamless peace. She still awoke early, however; the sun was just barely beginning to work its way over the horizon of trees to peer through the drapes of the window. Her eyes opened slowly as she consciously stopped herself from groaning unhappily. There was, undoubtedly, the puffy after effect of her tears remaining on her face and a slight headache mocked her…but she would be lying if she said she felt absolutely terrible. The trapezius muscles of her shoulders no longer felt so tight and sore from stress, and that alone was a relief that she desperately needed.

Her eyes focused in the dull light of the room and she realized that she had rolled over at some point in her sleep and was laying on her other side, facing the still-slumbering Daryl who had shifted onto his back. An arm was draped over his eyes and she couldn’t help but smile a little to herself. He looked much less threatening when he was asleep…although she wouldn’t have likened the sight to anything short of a sleeping predator. He seemed perfectly tranquil, but she had the feeling that the moment something went awry he would immediately be on his game, injured or not.

The doctor smiled to herself and slid from the bed as quietly as she could, the pads of her feet coming into contact with the floor as she cautiously stood, cringing as the springs of the bed squeaked. She didn’t dare look back at Daryl as she moved to grab her shoes…but she didn’t have to.

“Thought I said not to wake me up…” His voice was rougher than usual, evidence of the sleep he’d just been roused from. She finally turned slightly, an apologetic smile on her lips.

“Sorry. You need to rest, anyway. Just go back to sleep. Doctor’s orders,” she winked before picking up her shoes and retreating to the bathroom before he could say more. She let the door click quietly closed behind her before taking a cautious glance in the mirror. The image reflected back at her made her exhale a long, unhappy sigh. She had definitely expended her tear ducts the previous night…sitting beside Daryl Dixon, no less. But again, she still didn’t feel terrible…in fact, she felt better than she had in a long time. It was a catharsis she evidently underestimated the need for.

Shaking her head slightly, she turned the faucet on and splashed the cool water on her face. It was more refreshing than unpleasant, and after repeating the process a few times, she blindly grabbed at a towel hanging near the sink and dried her face, dragging the cloth down until she found herself staring into the mirror again. Well, there was _some_ improvement, anyway. She pulled her hair from its ponytail and ran her fingers through it a few times, tousling the wavy strands a bit before slipping the hair tie on her left wrist and pulling on her shoes. When she traipsed quietly back into the room, she was astonished to find the bed empty, the tousled sheets and blankets the only remnants that anyone had been there in the first place. A peculiar sense of disappointment crept over her at the hunter’s absence but she brushed it off and instead busied herself with straightening up the sheets. 

With that done, Elena headed out of the room and down the stairs, not encountering anyone in the otherwise quiet home. She grabbed a bottle of water from the kitchen and headed outside. The morning air was still cool, but that would change very soon, without a doubt. She took a long sip from the bottle and was about to head to her tent when she noticed a familiar, hat-wearing figure perched on top of the RV, waving. She smiled and capped the bottle, taking the detour to the RV and climbing up the ladder.

“Well, well! Good morning, Doctor! How’s our patient doing?” the white-haired man greeted causing Elena to laugh as she settled comfortably next to his lawn chair. 

“Morning! And he seems to be doing well enough to be up and about against the doctor’s orders!” she huffed before rolling her eyes. “I swear, you men are all so damn stubborn. Always think you’ve gotta be so tough and prove something!” 

Dale chuckled, his gaze on the tree line pensively for a moment. “You know some of us are worse than others…It seems to me that Daryl Dixon just happens to be the king of that.”

The woman sighed, running a hand carefully through her hair and fiddling aimlessly with the ends. “Growing up how he did, I can’t really say I blame him…although the fact that he doesn’t understand why anyone would care about him is just a little unsettling…” She was just thinking aloud as she often did around Dale. He was one of those people that made you feel like you could tell them anything in the world in good confidence. It was a nice quality to be around.

He glanced back at her, his eyebrows raised and a puzzled glimmer in his eyes. “What do you mean?”

She laid flat against the RV, her eyes following the brightening sky that was not quite entirely blue. “One of the first things they train you to look out for in an ER is signs of abuse of any kind…spousal, child, whatever. A child comes in with an injury, a vague – or even really detailed – explanation and a bounty of old scars? You look into it immediately. If a kid Daryl Dixon had walked into my ER? I hope I would’ve had the sense to get him out of his home immediately.”

She could feel the surprise in the man’s gaze. “So…he was abused growing up?”

Elena exhaled slowly and nodded. “Merle had very similar scars when I treated him. It also kind of explains why they clung to each other so much…even though I have a feeling Merle had a funny way of showing it.”

Dale chuckled and turned his gaze back out to the trees, shifting the rifle from his shoulder to his lap. “You pay pretty close attention to him, don’t you? Would be difficult to figure that much out about him no matter how long you’ve known him.”

She shrugged slightly, oblivious to the hinting implication of his words and simply folding her hands behind her head. “You learn to gather as much information about a person as you can in as short a time frame as you can after anything more than a month in the ER,” she mused thoughtfully, her eyes glazing over with unshared memories. It was a rough, exhausting job, but in a way, it helped prepare her for this. She was already accustomed to going without sleep for long periods of time and keeping on her toes. She was also quite gifted with reading people.

“I think you like him a little more than you let on.”

She blinked and sat up abruptly, her head tilted as she stared at Dale, perplexed. “What are you talking about?”

He chuckled, aware of a certain defensiveness in her tone. “Rick said he was conscious when they left and you had given him the all clear…and yet it seems to me, Ms. Corleone, that you stayed with him last night.” The insinuation behind his raised brows brought an unbidden fire to her cheeks. 

“Good God, Dale, not you too!” she groaned, falling back and letting her eyes focus on the clouds once more. “Does _everyone_ think I’m sleeping with him?” She sighed and dragged a hand down her face as her companion started laughing again. 

“Hey, now, that’s not what I said! I just said you care about the guy a little more than most of us do! Who said you were sleeping with him?”

She expelled a puff of air past her lips in defeat. “Maggie…and why shouldn’t I care about him? Everyone just assumes he doesn’t need anyone to look after him…but in my experience, everyone could use someone to look after them a little more than others. Even before all this shit went down.”

Dale “hm’d” thoughtfully for a moment, his lips still tweaked upward in a small smile. “Sounds like something my wife would say,” he murmured gently, a chuckle rumbling from his chest before he glanced back at Elena, who still seemed to be flustered. He had, indeed, noticed the telltale signs of a woman who had spent quite some time crying the night prior, but chose not to say anything on the matter…at least not for the time being, no matter how much his curiosity was trying to get the best of him. The reason for her tears was elusive, and as far as he could figure, could have been any number of things. “Just hear me out for a second here, Elena.” Her amber eyes peered out from between the fingers of the hand still covering her face. “There’s nothing wrong with liking the guy…I just recommend that you be careful. He’s not really the kind of guy to go all romantic on you.”

She snorted and just started laughing, shaking her head and finally dropping her hands back to her sides as her head turned to face the man in the lawn chair as she calmed down. “Thank you for that bit of insight. But I don’t think the fucking zombie apocalypse - or whatever the hell this is – is the greatest time to develop a crush or something.”

He met her gaze for a long moment and just shook his head slightly. “Tell that to Maggie and Glenn,” he mused lightly before his eyes trailed back to the woods surrounding them. “Besides, I think the zombie apocalypse – or whatever the hell this is,” he paused with a pointed, amused glance. “…is actually a pretty good time to have someone care a whole lot about you.”

Elena studied Dale for a moment more before letting her gaze shift back to the sky. In that moment, she couldn’t help but marvel at just how normal it seemed. So much had changed on the ground, but the sky still turned bright blue, the clouds still white or black or shades of grey in between…a physics professor once told her that the most beautiful sunsets were actually often caused by light reflecting on particles of pollution in the air: the more pollution, the more light reflected off of them, and therefore the more “beautiful” the sunrise or set. She hadn’t really gotten the chance to really appreciate a sunset in weeks: she wondered if it had changed at all…

“Until that person gets ripped away from you and there’s nothing you can do about it…” She had said it so quietly that Dale almost hadn’t heard it. He turned a soft, understanding eye to her and smiled gently.

“That happened before all this too, y’know. You should know that better than anyone: car accidents, murders, _cancer_ …” Elena looked back at Dale with an apologetic smile. He had informed her in one of their prior talks about his wife falling victim to cancer… _he_ would know better than anyone. “That doesn’t mean the loss isn’t worth the experience.”

There was a long, pensive pause and she released a long, slow breath. “There you go again, Dale: being all wisdom-filled and right…” He chuckled and patted one of her bent knees.

“I do try.”

They shared another laugh before another voice broke into their conversation.

“Yo, ‘Lena! Ya up there?”

She blinked and sat up, peering over the edge of the RV to see Daryl stood there, meeting her gaze the instant she found his. She quirked a brow teasingly. “Well, well, and here I thought you’d checked out AMA.” The confused expression caused her to smirk. “Against Medical Advice.”

He rolled his eyes. “Whatever. C’mon, let’s go.”

Her brow furrowed, her expression puzzled. “Go where? I might not be able to talk you into resting all day but like hell I’m letting you continuing your search when you’re recovering from an injury,” she retorted stubbornly. He only rolled his eyes again and shook his head, clearly agitated.

“Not huntin’ or searchin’ for anything. Just get ya ass down here.”

She shook her head and turned back around to climb down the ladder with her water bottle in hand, tossing her own frustrated glance at Dale who just laughed and waved a hand dismissively. “Take care of your _patient_ , Doctor.” She snorted and descended the rungs one by one, skipping the last few to land on her feet carefully. She straightened and stood with her hands on her waist and a hip dropped in feigned irritation. 

“You couldn’t have asked nicely?”

A slight smirk tugged the corners of his lips upward. “Thought I did. Now c’mon, let’s go, we got shit to do.” And with that, he thrust the strap of her crossbow into her hand and turned to walk away. She nearly dropped it in astonishment, her eyes falling to it and then to his retreating back. She hadn’t even realized he’d been holding it. 

She trotted to catch up to him, gracelessly slinging the strap over her shoulder as she did so. “Where the hell are we going?”

“Like hell I’m lettin’ you watch my back when you can’t even shoot a damn crossbow right.”

She fell into step slightly behind him, a small smile tugging at her lips. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad time, after all…


	7. It's Hard to Play it Safe

Elena chewed on her bottom lip silently as she watched Daryl set up several targets near the tree line. She suddenly felt nervous…childishly nervous, at that. Her little talk with Dale had certainly managed to turn her into a bumbling teenager with a crush all over again. Not immediately, of course; not until the moment she was even briefly alone with her thoughts. _That_ was when she found herself worrying about…[i]impressing[/i] him, of all things. She’d spent the previous evening stitching him up and then bawled her eyes out in front of him…

…and _now_ she wanted to impress him?

Luckily she wasn’t left to dwell on it much longer. 

Daryl strode the distance between herself and the target cans quickly, an indifferent and unimpressed expression upon his face. He crossed his arms over his chest and jerked his chin towards the targets. “Take a shot.”

Her expression deadpanned. Despite the unexpected need to impress him, she could not miss the chance to be a smart ass. “That’s your great teaching advice? ‘Take a shot’? How have I gotten along before now?” she snorted before notching the crossbow at her shoulder. Her gaze shifted from Daryl – who had narrowed his eyes at her, irritated – to the targets in front of her. She peered through the sights and lined one of the cans up with it before her finger danced over the trigger for a moment and, just as she was about to fire, the hand used to support the bottom of the crossbow was encompassed by a considerably larger one.

She flinched in surprise at the contact, her other hand jerking away from the trigger almost as a caution. Her face swiveled back to the scowling Daryl, whose hand was now supporting the weight of the crossbow against her hand and shoulder. “The hell ya doin’? Was just gonna move your damn hand back!” he growled, while his unoccupied hand grabbed the wrist of the hand she’d dropped and shoved it back to the trigger. “Now hold it again, woman,” he continued grumbling. 

Elena’s cheeks warmed in embarrassment and she mumbled an apology before tightening her grip on the weapon once more. _Well, that’s one way to kick this off…_ she thought sullenly before refocusing on the situation and cans ahead of her. With her grip reestablished, she let the disgruntled hunter’s hand move hers back a bit more and found herself surprised with how much more comfortably it immediately felt. _Always the smallest damn adjustments…_

Just as quickly as his hand had appeared, it was gone. “Try it now.”

She readjusted her sights once more and this time did not let herself hesitate as long before pulling the trigger. The bolt loosed from the wire and sailed through the air to embed itself into the ground just to the left of the propped up can. She lowered the weapon with an unhappy scowl and could’ve sworn she heard a snort from her right…

“Load it and aim again.”

She didn’t so much as glance back at him, just brought the crossbow down in front of her and used both hands to pull the wire back, grumbling a few curses as she did. That was the one thing she _definitely_ wasn’t used to yet. The taut wire was, for lack of a better phrase, a _bitch_ to cock. When it was finally locked back in place, she grabbed another bolt, notched it, and lifted it again. She consciously adjusted her hand back to the place Daryl had moved it before and found her aim.

Elena had always been rather amused by the idea of the classic Victorian romance…and maybe a little interested in one of her own, although she would never admit it. Perhaps that was the reason she had enjoyed her little fling with her attending while it lasted. There was something enticing about the secretive glances, the coy, seemingly casual but faintly lingering touches…

…well that was not what this was.

Anytime Daryl’s hands landed on a part of her body, it was always with a purpose. A rough tug to adjust her shoulders here, a tap on the shin with the back of his hand there – nothing more. He never remained in direct physical contact with her for more than the few seconds it took for her to follow his direction. What was unexpected, however, was how much more torturous that was to her. She felt hyper-aware of every move he made and the heat his hands generated. She was left to wonder if her initial withdrawal from his touch was the reason for his often too-quick retreats…

…she was going to kill Dale for this, because _clearly_ this was his fault.

When he was finally satisfied with her posture and stance, he instructed her to fire again. She forced herself to refocus on the object ahead. She was a grown woman, for Christ’s sake! There was no reason for her to get so worked up over a little physical contact!...whether she had a certain weakness for the guy or not. She steadied her breathing, lined up the target in her sights and pulled the trigger. The bolt sank into the ground to the left of the target and she scowled once more. Her frustration was mounting in more than one way.

Without being told, she lowered the weapon and was about to cock it back when it was abruptly yanked out of her hand. “Ya ever adjust the sights on this thing?” 

The question caused her to stand up straight again, her eyes on him as he lifted the weapon to his own shoulder and peered through the sights. “I’ve barely had time to shoot the damn thing, let alone figure out how to adjust the sights.”

He smirked a bit and lowered the crossbow, fiddling with the sights perched on it as she continued to observe him. It was very clear that his expertise with the object had been many years in the making. She had to wonder how long he had been using the things… “Try that. Probably have to adjust it more as ya get better.” She swallowed dryly as he cocked the lathe back with ease, the muscles in his toned biceps flexing until it was in place and the butt extended back to her. _Why_ did she have to take notice of all of this _now_?

Elena pushed the thoughts aside and retook her altered stance, adjusting herself until she found the comfort of vague muscle memory. She found the can in the sights once more and pulled her bottom lip between her teeth as her brow furrowed in concentration. Once she was certain of her alignment, her index finger tugged the trigger back and, with the utmost satisfaction, the bolt shot through the air, pierced the can and pinned it to the ground behind the perch it was set upon.

There it was again – that immense fulfillment that was ever so similar to the feeling she had gotten the last time she had fired the accursed weapon. It seemed so long ago, but she was pretty certain it hadn’t even been a week!...or perhaps it had, she hadn’t exactly been counting. But nonetheless, she turned to face Daryl’s small smirk with a broad grin of her own. Of course he just jerked his head towards the other two targets.

“Do it again before ya get all excited about it.”

She snorted and rolled her eyes, although her grin didn’t falter as she cocked and reloaded a bolt before retaking her stance. The second bolt clipped the side of the next can, knocking it from its seat while the third sailed completely through the final target. She lowered the crossbow and turned back to the apparently bemused hunter with an expectant brow raised. 

He shrugged slightly. “Not bad.” Pause. “Where’d ya learn to shoot, ‘nyway?”

She returned the shrug lightheartedly as she slung the strap of the crossbow over her shoulder and headed towards the bolts. “My dad taught me. Wanted to make sure I could keep up with the boys since I never had any brothers,” she smirked before yanking one of the bolts out of the ground and heading to the next. “Taught me a lot of shit I wasn’t always so happy to learn about. Namely driving motorcycles.” She scowled at the memory. She never did like the damn things and the weekend her father had insisted on teaching her was one where she was supposed to go out for one of her best friends’ eighteenth birthdays. Not the greatest way to convince a hormonal teenage girl to do something…

“What, scared of a little bike or some’in?”

She yanked the next bolt out of the ground and straightened to glower at the smirking Dixon who had, evidently, found a comfortable spot leaning against a nearby tree. “Put me in a car on four wheels and I will drive in circles around you or anyone else here,” she huffed indignantly, pointing the tip of the bolts clutched in her hand at his chest to emphasize her point. She definitely kept her pride intact, didn’t she? His expression was unimpressed, and she mumbled incoherently as color tinted her cheeks and she moved on to collect the next projectile. “Do you know how many head trauma cases I’ve seen caused by motorcycle accidents? Those are always the worst ones. Your brother was lucky he only busted his hand in what, six or seven places?”

There was another pause and Elena suddenly felt the air around Daryl shift. She stole a cautious glance at him as she bent down to grab the third bold and yank it from the can it had pinned to the ground. A frown was settled on his lips, his brow furrowed and his expression had become much more closed off in general. It appeared she had said something wrong…

“Yeah, could’ve been worse. Could’ve had to cut off his own hand to get off a roof.”

…she had forgotten that bit of information.

Her lips pursed as she righted herself and turned to face the disgruntled man. Their eyes met and held for a moment and Elena felt her breath squeeze from her lungs. Those sharp blue eyes were cold, bitter and angry…but the longer she stared, the more she realized that the anger was simply a shield to mask whatever else he was feeling – like worry or hurt. Emotions a guy like him wouldn’t care for others to see. She breathed a sigh and shook her head slowly.

“I’m sorry about Merle, Daryl…I really am. You said it yourself: he’s out there somewhere…chances are you’ll find him again.”

His expression changed just slightly – so slight, in fact, if she hadn’t been watching, she probably would’ve missed it. It was…disarmed, and maybe confused. He shifted uneasily, his gaze falling to the ground as he started to chew on the edge of his thumb nail. “What do _you_ have to be sorry for? Ya didn’t cuff’im up there.”  
She smiled gently and shrugged. “It’s not something anyone should have to go through.”

They were silent for some time before he grunted and pushed off of the tree, an arm swooping down to yank the remaining bolts from the grass and jut them towards her. She reached up to take the bolts from his hand, her fingers brushing against his as her hand wrapped around the pointed carbon fiber. She went to pull them away, ignoring the faint tingling at her fingertips…but he didn’t release them. Her amber gaze flickered up to his and once more they just…stared at each other. Her chest tightened again, being less than an arm’s length from him not really helping to keep her unruffled. He finally shifted his weight and nodded awkwardly before releasing the bolts and turning away.

Her knees weakened as her arms dropped to her side and she stared at his retreating back. Her mind was swimming with confused logic until all roads suddenly slammed into one intersection. Her eyes brightened and she found herself calling after him. “Daryl!” He slowed and glanced back as she grinned. “You’re welcome.” A very small, though genuine, smile tugged the corners of his lips up before he continued back towards the collection of tents in front of the house. She let herself collapse back against the tree and expel a breath.

He certainly had an odd way of showing gratitude.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are welcomed and encouraged! :]


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